Following the Wrong Leader
by Argentcoeur
Summary: The famed Fullmetal alchemist is hung by command of the Fuhrer. People will kill for those precious eyes of his.
1. Those Precious Eyes

Disclaimer: I do not own FMA. Rira-Lala-Kiki told me she would be using the idea of this first chapter to write something, so if you see a fic that has near the exact same chapter, feel free to hit them with a frying pan if it isn't Rira.

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**Following The Wrong Leader** _-Chapter 1_

"Any last words, Fullmetal?" Roy asked, impatient.

The blond said nothing, choosing instead to look up at his superior with pleading eyes.

"No?" Roy's face obtained a wicked smile. "Then with no due respect, die!"

The lever dropped down, Ed's eyes went wide. There, from the gallows he hung, his golden eyes wide.

Many mourned for the alchemist, yet dared not rebel against the new Fuhrer. Any who came too close would be incinerated, and a family member would clean up the ashes the very next day.

The Flame Alchemist walked swiftly away from the lever, his soldiers accompanying him. All breathed not a word and moved not a breadth. A solitary noise broke the silence; a faint sob, coming from one person.

The girl fell to the ground, having lost the last of her strength enduring the execution. Her wails echoed around the city, but none mourned with her.

Only one smiled at her distress. And he laughed. Soon, the whole world would bow down to Roy Mustang, the Flame Alchemist!

And those sad, amber eyes stared into Hell forever, never decaying, never finding peace.

Winry arrived again at the scene the next day, downcast. Her tears formed a small puddle on the cold stone ground, staining it along with the other, more prominent pools of crimson. The mechanic slowly brought herself to look her friend in the eye, determined to be strong, to have one last view of his dulled amber gaze.

Two empty holes stared at her.


	2. WARNING: Bad Pun Ahead

**Following The Wrong Leader **_-Chapter 2_

"...ammonia, 4 liters..."

"...water, 35 liters..."

"...carbon, 20 kilograms..."

The feverish man in the drab room quietly listed ingredients, carrying each component one at a time to a gray mass forming in the middle of the room. The mountain teetered at the edges of the silver platter, threatening to ruin the intricate engraved circle decorating the entirety of the floor. Even when it seemed the collection couldn't grow any larger, the man continued working.

Another man stood to the side, cloaked in shadow. He fiddled with a broken piece of metal, trying to pry a set of chains off his wrists. He looked up to check the man's progress, squinting through the light of the torches. A lock of brown hair fell out of its messy ponytail. He mentally checked steps and precautions off on the strict list of instructions in his mind. All seemed to be going according to plan.

His eyes widened despite the light.

That...that circle. No, it couldn't be. Even if it wasn't, it would cost him more than an arm and a leg.

He considered his options. As the other man's mind boiled with sickness and determination, he only had one other option.

Quickly, the man slipped away, muffling the chains by shoving them in his pockets. As soon as he felt he was out of earshot, his speed increased.

He climbed his way through debris to a hole in the ceiling of the giant underground city leading to an abandoned house. He exited the house and slinked past several military officers, ducking in alleys to avoid detection.

Finally, he came to a neglected section of the city gates. He climbed over the fence, and jumped down on the other side. A large expanse of land lay in front of him. Tears pricked at his golden eyes, but he quickly wiped them away. He took a few deep breaths to calm his heart before taking off running. Before he knew it, his heart beat rapidly again.

Although his blood pounded in his ears, he could hear officers shouting, followed by stomping of many feet. He veered off in the direction of a wooded area, willing his legs to run faster. He ignored the shouts of terror, he ignored the explosion, he ignored the buildings collapsing, he ignored the grief.

He barely managed to escape, hiding in a cave. Something growled. he slowly turned his head, his eyes widening at the fear of being found.

The bear scratched at its nose, turning the growls into snorts.

The man's fears didn't ease. The bear could easily chase him out into the open, revealing his location to nearby military personnel. One false move or sudden sound could make things disastrous.

His blood ran cold at the sound of heavy boots. He peeked out the cave ever so slightly, and glanced back at the bear. The boots grew louder and the bear grew agitated.

Suddenly the bear woke up and padded outside. A few whispers were exchanged between the soldiers, then the sound of boots grew softer. The man waited a few minutes after the bear had come back before deeming it safe to move.

He released a sigh, relieved to be safe for the moment. Yet his heart roared in protest, that he couldn't afford to be safe. His mind ignored his heart; safety was a luxury meant to be treasured when available, and used to the best advantage.

He pulled out a worn scrap of paper, and unfolded it. His eyes ran down the list of names -some crossed out- until he found the right name. He took out a pencil and drew a line through _Crimson Alchemist_. A creaking sound came from his arm as he put the paper back in his pocket, and he winced. He rubbed his shoulder vigorously, and buried himself in a ragged blanket and his cloak.

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I'm reviving this fic. Chapter 1 was revised, too. I probably won't go further than this chapter. No ideas, see? *points to hair*

And sorry about the horrible pun at the beginning. I couldn't resist. But hey, all stories need comic relief.

Cookie for anyone who correctly guesses who either of the two characters in this chapter are.


End file.
